


bubblegum

by radio_exodus



Series: crayola [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drug Use, Figuring out a new relationship is hard, Getting Together, M/M, boys in makeup, but they get there, pastel, sweet relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 15:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11739879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radio_exodus/pseuds/radio_exodus
Summary: Shou is pastel lipstick and tiny shorts, demure white socks against velvet-smooth ankles and blown pupils behind thick lashes. Tooru is soft leggings and pink nails, taut nipples peeking out of wide-collared shirts and lilac hair tucked coyly behind studded ears. They ride through the city night, cold fingers tangled sweetly, Shou’s baby blue lips wrapped around a joint, pausing too long at stoplights to steal shotgun kisses, and they fall in love.





	bubblegum

Tooru’s never seen him here before.

He’s twisting sinfully, languid in a way that suggests he’s not all there, and Tooru’s attention is captured, caught by the swell of an ass barely contained by tight shorts and the shock of orange hair. Hands reach towards him, smoothing down the tempting jut of his hip and creamy stretch of his neck, and Tooru’s a little bit pissed (but he’s mostly just turned on).

He’s got his own crowd, big, dark men who don’t mind that he’s a bit on the tall side, not when Tooru digs sharp nails into their chests and gives them a peek of the stud in his tongue. They appease him, a little, but he doesn’t usually have competition here, not any as tempting as the tiny boy with wide, glazed eyes and crayola lips.

Suddenly, the boy’s eyes finds him, and Tooru’s mouth goes dry. His gaze is heavy, crawls up slowly from his soft boots to his lilac hair. Tooru flushes, but rolls his hips a little bit dirtier all the same. The boy’s mouth curls into a smile, a sweet pink tongue pokes out for a fleeting moment, and something hot twists deep in Tooru’s gut.

The boy loses interest as quickly as he gained it, but Tooru can’t look away, not even when big hands grip his hips tight and pull him back, hard and filthy, against the kind of huge cock Tooru normally wouldn’t hesitate to take home. He grinds lazily, more on autopilot than anything else, and wonders what the curve of that tiny waist would feel like against his tongue, if those lips would leave stains on his neck.

It turns into a game, somewhere along the line, turns into hot gazes and teasing smiles and a tension so delicious Tooru wants it to last forever. The boy slides a hand under his shirt, pushing it up and letting him get a glimpse of a bejeweled naval, and Tooru retaliates with someone’s hand on his ass, head thrown back and lips parted as they dig fingers in deep and rough. It’s the best kind of foreplay.

Tooru flirts lazily through one or two more songs before he drags his hand against an abdomen, breathes hot into an ear and gets a small bag of bud for his troubles. He smiles, lip caught on his canine, brushes a kiss against the corner of a mouth as thanks and extracts himself from the heat of the crowd.

He moves leisurely along the edge of the dancefloor, strange hands occasionally pressing against his thighs and tempting him back to the writhing mass, but Tooru brushes them off. The boy glances up at him when Tooru passes by, and their gazes meet for a beat or two. This time, when those lips turn up ever so slightly, Tooru smiles back. The boy’s eyes blow even wider, and Tooru winks.

He continues on, after that, pushing his way to the back of the club, where the adorable bouncer, Kuroo, stands in front of a nondescript door. He’s a little sweet on Tooru, watches intently every time he’s in the club, and lets him use the back room whenever he wants. Tooru runs a nail down his arm, murmurs that he’s gonna have some company tonight, and Kuroo grins.

Inside, he mixes two drinks at the wet-bar, sweet and pink like he’s sure they both like, and by the time he’s sticking straws in them, the door is creaking open. Tooru smiles.

The boy slips into the room, cheeks flushed, and giggles when Tooru presents him with the drink.

“You’re cute,” he breathes, and Tooru blows him a kiss. His pupils are huge.

“You’re cute too, Chibi-chan,” he replies, and then he’s distracted by the way those pastel lips wrap around the straw.

“Shou,” the boy’s voice is like sugar, and his tongue darts out to lick up a few droplets of pink that had escaped.

“Hmm, Shou-chan. That’s cute too,” Tooru has to clear his throat before he continues. “Call me Tooru.”

Shou giggles again, and Tooru can’t stop himself from stepping closer and reaching out to run a finger across a red cheek. It flares up brighter, but Shou is smiling, leaning closer, and that’s all the permission Tooru needs. He bends down, hand moving to slide into orange hair, and presses his lips lightly against the mouth that has been taunting him since he first caught sight of it. Shou’s still smiling, pushing up against Tooru and sloshing his drink onto the floor. A small tongue brushes against Tooru’s mouth, teasing his lips open, and the wet heat that follows leaves him breathless in the sweetest of ways. Their tongues tangle together in a slow slide, rubbing against teeth and pressing into cheeks, and Tooru _has_ to tilt his head, fit their lips together more snugly, because this is addicting.

Eventually, Tooru pulls away, dropping a last kiss or two on cotton candy lips before disentangling his fingers from soft hair and sucking in a deep breath. Shou looks even more dazed than before, lipstick smeared at the corners of his mouth and eyes blown wide. Tooru’s sure he’s no better.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Shou says, breathless, before he smiles again. Tooru laughs airily.

“Yeah, Shou-chan,” he agrees. He takes a sip of his drink, but it’s not what he really wants, not after that kiss. Instead, he sets it down and takes Shou’s hand, tugging him to the couch. They sit side by side, thighs pressed tight against each other. Tooru pulls out the weed, some rolling paper and a lighter, and Shou hums in appreciation, hand resting high on Tooru’s leg.

“I knew you’d be fun, Tooru,” he murmurs.

“I’m _so_ much fun, Shou-chan. Only, can you do the honors? ‘s hard to roll with these,” he says, wiggling his long nails at the other boy. Shou laughs, then leans forward and presses a kiss to one pink nail.

“Only ‘cuz they’re so pretty,” he replies.

Tooru relaxes into the couch as Shou leans forward towards the table. His loose shirt rides up, revealing that tiny waist that Tooru wants to lean forward and lick. Instead, he curves a hand around it, drawing out a shiver and a giggle from Shou. Tooru sucks in a breath.

He’s so gone on this boy already.

-

They don’t fuck that night. They cuddle, pausing occasionally to smoke or kiss, and talk quietly until Kuroo kicks them out. It’s not a big deal, though – they both have the munchies, so they make their way to the nearest 24 hour diner and play footsie under the table while eating greasy fries and slurping down a milkshake. By the time they leave, it’s almost 6, and all Tooru wants to do now is drag Shou back to his apartment and fall asleep tangled up together, but Shou laughs quietly and says he has work at 8. He presses one last kiss against the corner of Tooru’s mouth, slips a piece of paper into his hand, and heads off into the lavender sunrise with a smile.

The first thing Tooru does when he gets home is program Shou’s number into his phone.

(His name is sugarlips, because _duh._ )

-

He texts Shou after he wakes up, already four in the afternoon, hungover as all hell as he types out a groggy ‘feel like poop, need cuddles’.

Two minutes later he gets a text back ‘sleppin shhh cudl l8r’ and Tooru laughs.

-

Shou sends him a picture the next day, mint green lips pursed around a straw, tells him he can’t stop thinking about that drink, Tooru should make it for him again sometimes.

Tooru thinks he may be going crazy, if the full body flush it causes is anything to go on.

-

Shou is much more vivacious when he isn’t loose-limbed and drugged out, Tooru is coming to realize.

It’s the first time they’re together after the club, just four days later, and Shou had turned up at Tooru’s apartment with windblown hair and a wide, lavender smile. Tooru had gotten a little less than half a kiss in before Shou had pressed into his living room, bubbly and laughing as he zigzagged around, trailing a hand over books and peering at the little bronze statues scattered across shelves and end tables.

Even now, hours later, as they wander through darkening streets, Shou is vibrating with latent energy, pulling a sleepy Tooru to pretty window displays and into squished trinket shops. His eyes are bright, though, and his hand is warm against Tooru’s, so he doesn’t really mind.

The sun is starting to set, however, and before the day ends there’s one more thing he wants to do.

“Shou-chan?” he calls into the sea of records. Shou’s buried somewhere deep in the recesses of a record store, searching for an album he had described as ‘really WOW, Tooru, it’s just like, BAM!’

An orange head pops out from behind a tall shelf.

“One second, To, I’ve almost got it,” he replies, and sure enough, less than a minute later he emerges completely, happy grin spread across his face. Once he pays for the record, they head outside, and Tooru hooks his arm through Shou’s.

“There’s something I wanna show you, Shou-chan,” he says, already steering him down the street. They eventually reach a tall hotel, and Shou laughs.

“On the first date, To? You move fast,” he teases, and Tooru pouts.

“But Shou-chan, this is our second date,” he whines dramatically, before a smile breaks across his face and he continues, “but that’s not why we’re here. Just play along Shou-chan, it’s worth it, promise.”

“Yeah, OK – let’s go!” Shou bounces forward, pulling Tooru to the door.

They step into the lobby, and Shou makes an intrigued sound. All around them is an art gallery, stark white walls painted with colored lights and people with wine and cocktails meandering around. Tooru leans closer to Shou.

“The first two floors are all art, but there’s something better here,” he whispers before steering Shou towards the elevators. There are 20 floors, but they’re only going to floor 16.

Tooru pulls a giggling Shou out of the elevator, shushes him even as a smile spreads across his face, and stops by a window tucked away in the corner. After quickly checking to make sure they’re alone, he slides the window open and ducks out onto the jutting roof just outside.

“C’mon, Shou-chan, before anyone sees!” he says, wind ruffling through his hair pleasantly. Shou laughs.

“What a rule breaker,” he teases as he climbs out after Tooru, but when he looks past him he sucks in a deep breath.

“Wow,” Shou says, almost reverently. Tooru smiles and tangles their fingers together.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Toory asks. Before them is the city, sprawled out and lazy, as the big summer sun hangs low on the horizon, already starting to color the sky pink and orange and purple.

“It’s gorgeous! Wow,” Shou laughs breathlessly, turning to look at Tooru with sparkling eyes. Suddenly, Tooru feels oddly shy.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says. This feels really important, somehow. Shou’s eyes gentle, lips spreading into a soft smile.

“Best date ever,” he says, leaning into Tooru.

They stay like that, silent and pressed together, until the moon is high in the sky. Tooru thinks he wouldn’t mind if they stayed like that forever.

-

They text all the time. They talk about random things, cute birds they see or rude customers or good songs to have sex to. Tooru’s pleased to find out Shou adores emoji’s, uses them in every text, sometimes won’t use words at all – Iwaizumi hates it when Tooru does that, but he thinks it’s cute and Shou does too. It’s fun, ridiculously fun. Tooru feels like he has a permanent smile on his face, nowadays.

Iwaizumi notices immediately - it’s only a couple days after their date when he brings it up. They’re at work, dusty record shop empty as the last rays of ruby-red sun shine through the windows, and Tooru is perched on the edge of the counter. He’s in the middle of an argument about what the cutest pet is with Shou, biting his lip to keep from grinning too much, when a finger pokes him none-too-gently in the thigh. Tooru yelps.

“Oi,” Iwaizumi says bluntly, “who’re you texting?” Tooru pouts at him.

“Iwa-chan, that hurt,” he whines, clicking his phone off and rubbing his leg.

“Answer the question, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi replies, finger sneaking threateningly towards his other thigh.

“Fine, you brute. His name is Shou-chan. I met him on Friday,” Tooru huffs out, nails clacking against the linoleum as he shifts his weight to his arm. Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows.

“Shou-chan?” he questions, looking the tiniest bit confused.

“He’s _adorable_ ,” Tooru replies immediately, before grinning and poking Iwaizumi’s cheek, “but don’t worry, Iwa-chan, you’re still the cutest~” Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever,” he grunts, and Tooru laughs.

“Don’t be jealous~ Iwa-chan is so possessive sometimes~” he says playfully, swinging his legs. Iwaizumi swats one of his feet away, and Tooru laughs again.

“As if I’d ever be jealous of anyone who has to kiss your shitty face,” Iwaizumi shoots back, before looking away and rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. “You’ve just, uh, seemed happier recently,” he continues gruffly. Tooru can feel his cheeks flaring up, and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious, heart beating a staccato rhythm in his throat.

“I think- um,” he starts, blush spreading to his neck and stomach fluttering. “I think I am,” he says in a whisper, fiddling nervously with the thin fabric of his shirt. Iwaizumi huffs out a breath. When Tooru glances up at him, his lips are turned up the tiniest bit.

“I’m glad,” he says, hand reaching out to thump him gently against the temple, and emotion wells up in Tooru’s chest.

“Iwa-chan, you monster, don’t be so sweet, you’re going to make me cry and ruin my make-up,” he teases, but his voice is a bit too thick and he’s only half-mocking, really. Iwaizumi snorts (his hand is still gentle against Tooru’s head, though, the big softie).

“You’re such a drama queen,” Iwaizumi says, dropping his arm and pushing himself away from the counter. Tooru laughs.

“Shou-chan _loves_ that about me,” he retorts, voice warm. Iwaizumi just flips him off.

Tooru counts the whole conversation as a win.

-

Tooru falls fast.

They text and they date. They go to movies, stealing lipstick kisses in the back of the theater and leaving with flushed cheeks, attracting curious eyes as they giggle their way back into the parking lot. They walk through the most expensive streets they can find, sighing over the pretty things in windows and bumping into each other as they make up stories about the people that pass by. They ride through the city at night, cold fingers tangled sweetly, Shou’s baby blue lips wrapped around a joint, and Tooru pauses too long at stoplights to demand shotgun kisses as Shou laughs and smacks at him halfheartedly.

It’s surprisingly innocent, hand holding and tentative caresses, but it only makes it feel more precious.

Iwaizumi continues to notice, comments one day that it’s been a couple of weeks since Tooru went to the club.

He thinks about that a lot.

-

He and Shou have their first big fight the second time Tooru spends the night.

Inevitably, they start sleeping over at each other’s places, curling around each other with no makeup on and falling asleep with delicately entwined fingers. On this occasion, they’ve both had far too much to drink, and while Tooru wants to go out, head over to Hurricane, reminisce about the time they first met, Shou is tired and drooping, and laughs when Tooru suggests it.

They make it back to Shou’s apartment, Tooru silent and growing angry, and when Shou gives him a kiss on the cheek and says he’s off to shower, Tooru erupts.

“What, _that’s_ what I came over here for? I come all the way to your apartment, which, by the way, is forever away from anything that I need to get to, and that’s all I get?” he spits out. He regrets it almost immediately, sees the hunch of Shou’s shoulders before he even turns around and feels like an absolute shit, but he’s far too drunk and a bit too hurt to consider apologizing right now. Instead, he stands his ground, ugly pout on his face, as Shou turns back to look at him, the beginnings of anger simmering in his eyes.

“I don’t owe you shit Tooru, and I certainly don’t have to go out with you whenever you want! I happen to have a _job_ early in the morning, sorry if I can’t waste away the night at the local gay club, or if I don’t want to. Sorry some of us can enjoy a night without getting high and rubbing up against strangers,” he spits back, and Tooru feels something stab through his chest. It feels a lot like betrayal.

“Fine, then, maybe I’ll just go out alone, 'rub up against some strangers',” he replies, hoping it hurts, before he storms out of the apartment.

He doesn’t go out. Instead, he goes home, curls up in his bed, and, in the morning, sends Shou the most heartfelt apology he can write at almost exactly the same time Shou does. They meet up later, cuddle and kiss, and Tooru spreads Shou out on his back and takes him apart with his tongue, and that’s the end of it.

Except something keeps niggling at the back of Tooru’s mind, and he’s not sure it’s going to let go.

-

Several weeks later, it’s two in the morning, and Tooru can’t sleep. It’s been happening a decent amount, recently. No matter how hard he tries, he’s too wired and his eyes are too wide to sit still, much less fall asleep. He’s restless. There’s an itch under his skin, and he can’t seem to scratch it.

He knows what will though.

-

Hurricane early in the morning attracts a very specific crowd. It’s a gay club through and through, and, however unfortunate, that means that after a certain time the only people there are there for drugs and sex.

Tooru stands in front of the grimy door, where he’s stood countless times before. He doesn’t want to be here, not really, but he knows what that itch is, and what will make it go away. The thought of Shou almost makes him turn back – the thought of him curled up in his bed, orange hair a fiery halo on his pillow – but before he really knows what he’s doing he pushes open the door and steps inside.

It’s dark and hot inside, sweaty bodies moving with incessant purpose against each other. He flags down Suga, the bartender, and a thrill goes through the bottom of his stomach when he runs his fingers across the back of Tooru’s hand and looks at him with eyes that can make men do anything as he orders a drink.

It feels wrong, but Tooru can’t help but bask in it. So when a man, big and dark and just Tooru’s type, whose eyes are locked on Tooru’s delicate wrists, comes to stand next to him, Tooru just presses up against him and whispers hotly in his ear that he’d love a drink.

And that’s that.

-

Except that’s not that, because turns out the guy has had several too many and is far too strong, and before long Kuroo has to pull him off of a thoroughly shaken Tooru and throw him out the front door. Then, eyes blazing, he takes Tooru and throws him into the back room.

“What the hell are you doing?” He demands, arms crossed and looking more dangerous than Tooru has ever seen him be.

“What– I don’t–” Tooru fumbles, chest tightening and eyes wide with fear.

Kuroo sighs, closes his eyes, deflating a bit.

“You idiot, you do know I’m friends with Iwaizumi right? He’s told me all about your beloved _Shou-chan_. What the hell are you doing trying to pick some brute up here?” Tooru sucks in a breath, before suddenly, out of nowhere, tears come to his eyes. Kuroo looks shocked, and before either know what’s happening, Tooru crumples into his chest, sobbing.

“I- I don’t- know,” he hiccups between sobs, “I just- just- I just don’t know what to- to do-”

Hesitantly, Kuroo brings his arms up around him, pulling him in closer, before he sighs.

“Everyone here is such a goddamn diva.”

-

That night, Tooru goes home with his tail between his legs. He takes a long shower to try and wash the night away, but it only leaves him waterlogged, and so he curls up under all the blankets he owns and tries not to cry.

The next morning, as though through divine retribution, he wakes up with a pounding headache, even though he hadn’t really drank all the much. Shou texts him as he’s making breakfast, the frog emoji and a cheerful morning! and Tooru suddenly feels much, much worse. Sweet, adorable Shou, who’s witty and captivating, who has the prettiest eyes and most charming laugh, who smiles at Tooru with crayola lips and sends him stupid emoji’s when he’s bored, does not deserve this.

And so, that night, Tooru finds himself once again hesitating in front of a door. This one is less grimy, but holds much more uncertainty behind it. He’s been dreading this all day, but if he doesn’t go through that door he’s not being fair to Shou - he wouldn't be giving him a chance to get out of this before Tooru hurts him. So, taking a deep breath, he lifts his hand and knocks.

-

Hurricane is more crowded than it normally is on a Saturday, if that’s possible. Tooru slides his way through the crowd, navigates as only someone who knows this place intimately can. He’s looking for something, something nice to take home with him, but his usual go to’s aren’t doing it tonight.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spots something that catches his attention. A tiny waist, tinier shorts, and a shock of orange hair. The boy turns to look at him, eyes blown, and licks pastel lips as he grinds back against one of the many men surrounding him.

Later, when they’re in bed at home, Tooru will lament about how another man got to touch his precious Shou-chan, but right now, he bites his lip and rucks his shirt up in response, and the game is on.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by New Americana. Possibly part of a series.


End file.
